


Corner of the World 8: After Hours

by serafina20



Series: Corner of the World [8]
Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-22
Updated: 2011-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-15 20:57:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafina20/pseuds/serafina20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of "Hourglass," Lex goes to visit Clark, and ends up staying the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corner of the World 8: After Hours

The first fifty miles, Lex didn't bother to think. His mind had shut down as a defense against the horror running through him, something he had learned to do years ago. At first he had done it in an attempt to shut out the voices in his head; later he'd learned how to shut everything out, giving him moments to regroup.

Shut down as he was, Lex didn't even realize he had left town until his mind slowly woke up, and he began to recognize familiar landmarks, indicating he was headed towards Metropolis.

The second fifty, he kept thinking _away._ He kept driving, barely paying attention to what went on around him, just needing to move. To be going somewhere. There was a vague memory of him stopping in front of his father's home, but he couldn't say how long he was there. Lex also wasn't sure when he decided to turn back to Smallville, but, two hundred miles after he had begun, he found his car was just down the road from the Kent's farm. It was almost midnight and his car was out of gas.

After that, walking seemed like a good idea. He got out of his car and headed for the farm, not really watching where he was going. The air was crisp and cold against his skin, almost too cold. But, he kept going, driven by an inner compulsion to get to Clark, to see Clark, to talk to Clark. If he concentrated just a bit, he could sense Clark, awake in the loft, almost like he was waiting for him.

"Lex!" Clark greeted him in surprise.

He was sitting on a mattress pushed against the far wall. At the head of the mattress was a small table with a lamp, an empty glass, a plate of cookies, a glass of water, and an alarm clock. At the foot of the bed was a space heater that was powerful enough to make the air in the drafty barn surprisingly warm. Clark was clad in a pair of sweat pants, a long sleeved tee shirt, socks, and flannel. The matching sweatshirt was crumpled next to his feet on the blue and red checked quilt. He was sitting with his knees drawn to his chest, a book resting against his thighs. A lock of black hair curled across his forehead, wide blue eyes staring at Lex.

Without a word, Lex walked over to him, and collapsed on the bed limply. Lying face down, he sighed, his muscles melting into the mattress.

Clark shut the book and lay down beside him. "Where have you been? I called your house after I left the rest home, but no one knew where you were. Damien said not to worry, but I saw what you when you left. God, Lex," he ran a hand over Lex's skull, down his neck, resting in the small of his back. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah."

"Where were you?" Soft lips pressed on the nape of Lex's neck.

"Driving."

"Where?"

"Somewhere. Around. I made it to Metropolis, and stared at my father's house for awhile. Then I came home."

"You went home?"

"I came here."

"Oh." Clark pushed Lex, trying to get him to turn over. After a moment, Lex flopped listlessly onto his back, gazing at the ceiling through unseeing eyes. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Lex sighed. "I thought I just did." He reached out for Clark's hand, lacing their fingers together.  
"I meant with Cassandra. They told me you were in there with her when it happened. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I killed her."

Clark sighed, and stretched alongside Lex. He ran his hand down his lover's body, stopping at his belly, then slid it around so he held Lex in an embrace. "She had a stroke, Lex. You didn't kill her."  
"She was terrified," Lex said, not hearing Clark. "So scared. I could feel it, and I can't feel anyone anymore. But I did her." He took a deep breath, shutting the memory of her fear out. "I just went so she could tell me if I was going to do anything good with my life. Achieve great things. See if you would be there." He laughed slightly, lifting Clark's hand to kiss it. "And we were sitting there, my hand in hers, or hers in mine and... God. Whatever she saw just. Frightened her so badly. I felt her hand tighten, and then... I thought she was ready to tell me. But she wasn't. She was dead. Because of me."

"Lex. Listen to me. You didn't kill her. It was a stroke."

Lex shook his head. "I was in the room when my grandmother died. Heart attack. I was five. Grandfather too. Stroke. He was talking, then he was on the floor. By the time the paramedics arrived, he was dead. I was hiding in the corner. And then," his voice got lower, rougher, "when my mom died, I was all alone with her. In the hospital. She wanted her favorite clock with her: a Cinderella alarm clock her dad had bought her. I think she always thought she was like Cinderella, only midnight was a long time in coming."

He sniffed. "She wanted me to climb on the bed, so she could look at me, see me. Her sight was going. She wanted to touch my skin; once I lost my hair, and my body hair started growing weird, my skin got really sensitive. Soft. She always said I had the most wonderful skin. She," he took a deep breath, "she told me I was her precious one, and that she knew I was going to do wonderful things with my life. Great things. I was going to be president, cure world hunger, and then... she stopped talking. And this look of sheer horror crossed her face and she died. Just like that. Just like Cassandra."

"Lex . . ."

"It's like everything I touch goes bad. People get sick. . ."

"Lex. . ."

"They die . . ."

"Lex!"

"My dad can't stand me. Your father hates me. And they're probably right. I'm probably. . ."

Clark cut Lex off by sealing their lips together. Placing one hand on Lex's chest, he breathed softly into Lex's mouth.

He coughed, body convulsing. Shoving Clark off him, he sat up. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

Clark sat up as well. "Trying to get your attention. You're scaring me." He traced Lex's cheek.

Lex blinked, then looked down. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I just . . . just wanted you to really look at me. Listen to me." Sitting crossed leg, facing Lex, Clark took both Lex's hands in his. "Lex, you didn't kill her. Or your mother. Any of them. And I know how scary it must have been to be in the room with them when they died, but you didn't kill them. Do you hear me?"

"Yeah."

"What did I say?"

"I didn't kill them."

"Do you believe me?"

Lex shrugged. "It doesn't matter if I killed them or not. It's still a sign. Even if they died of natural causes, it's a sign that everywhere I go in life, I will spread death and destruction."

Clark shook his head. He wrapped his legs around Lex's body, scooting forward until their bodies were inches apart. "No, it's not. It's just a sign that you're human, and you can't create miracles." He smiled lopsidedly. "At least, not yet." He slid his hands up Lex's body, so they were cupping him gently behind his jaw, fingers resting behind Lex's ears. Pressing a kiss into Lex's forehead, he sighed. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that. But, look at it this way: we met in what had to be the worst way possible, right? You crashed and almost died, and I was terrified. Before I even met you, I was terrified you would die. But you didn't."

"Thanks to you," Lex murmured, caressing Clark's cheek.

"I only did what anyone would do." He kissed the palm of Lex's hand. "And out of that horrible first meeting, came this. Us. Something beautiful."

Lex smiled, averting his gaze. He hated and loved the way Clark made him feel, made him want to blush, made his heart contract in exquisite pain. Made him feel cherished. "And your point?"

"My point is, that despite your bad luck to be in the room when two wonderful women died, not everything gets tainted. You have me. And this is so right, what we have. It'll never be tainted."

There was nothing left to do after that but kiss him, and Lex did. Wrapping his arms and legs around Clark, Lex kissed him as hard as he could, clinging to his savior.

With one last hard kiss, he pulled back. "I'm glad I came here."

"Me too." Clark kissed him again, trailing a line of small, loving kisses over his cheeks, down his jaw, up to his ear. "I want you to stay," he whispered, his voice sounding breathy as it danced over the shell of Lex's ear.

"What?"

"The night. Stay with me. Just . ..out here. Sleep with me."

"Your parents will kill me."

"They won't have to know that we're having sex. Just that you came over, your car was out of gas, and I let you stay in the barn with me. Innocent."

"How did you know my car was out of gas?"

Clark laughed, hands caressing Lex's back. "I was just thinking of a lie. Is it really?"

Lex nodded. "Yeah." Then he sighed. "Clark, I don't know." He kissed Clark's neck, melting in the heat of his young lover's body.

"Please? Just lay beside me. Let me hold you."

Lex couldn't say no. Pulling away, he kicked off his shoes, and peeled off his jacket. "All right." He shivered slightly, running his hands up his arms; his shirt was not going to be warm enough.

"Here; wear this. I don't want you getting sick." Clark handed Lex his sweatshirt. Turning down the bed, he asked, "Do you have your inhaler?"

"Yes." Lex pulled it out, showed Clark, then put it on the table. "I haven't used it for awhile. Maybe I'm getting better."

"Still, it's really dusty out here; I don't want to take chances." Clark crawled under the covers, and looked at Lex through heavy lidded eyes. "Come here."

Lex slid next to Clark, facing him. Tracing the planes of his face, Lex leaned in and kissed Clark deeply. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He took a deep breath. "I... I..." Clark stuttered, a flush coloring his cheekbones. He licked his lips and closed his eyes a moment, before saying, "I'll always be here for you, Lex."  
Nodding, Lex rested his head against the pillow, a smile curving his mouth. "Yeah. I know." He closed his eyes, breathing Clark in.

Clark slid closer. He draped his leg over Lex's, wound his arms around Lex's waist and pulled him close. Despite the dangerous strength Lex knew lay in those arms, Lex felt safe. Secure.

Loved.

Burrowing into Clark's warmth, Lex felt the last of the day's tension melt away. Face pressed into Clark's neck, breathing in the comforting, clean scent of his lover, Lex drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

***

"Morning Mom, Dad," Clark greeted sunnily, walking into the kitchen.

Martha's lips twitched, eyes twinkling. "Morning honey. I love what you've done with your hair."

Clark ran his hands through his hair, glancing out of the kitchen door to see his reflection in the mirror in the living room. His hair looked very slept on: sticking up in places, waves plastered to his skin in others.

Grinning, he smoothed it out. "Well, there's no mirror in the loft yet."

"But there is one in the washroom, and I know you were in there because I can smell the toothpaste on your breath," Jonathan replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "You'd think you'd might glance in it before being seen in public."

"Since when are my folks public?" Clark shot back easily. Then, glancing at the coffee pot, he asked, "Did your cappuccino machine break? Because it's a little shocking seeing you drink something as ordinary as plain ol' coffee." He pulled the milk out of the 'fridge, and was about to gulp it from the bottle when Martha cleared her throat. Smiling innocently, Clark grabbed a glass, and made a big show of pouring.  
Jonathan scowled good-naturedly. "There is nothing wrong with my machine, except that it's feelings are wounded by your and Mom's stubborn refusal to drink anything from it."

"If I wanted a bad cappuccino, I'd go to the Beanery," Martha said.

"Hear, hear," seconded Clark.

"I happen to make very good drinks."

"Keep telling yourself that, dear." Martha patted his shoulder before turning to her son. "How was sleeping in the loft, Clark?"

Clark swallowed his milk. "Great. It's really peaceful out there. And the heater really made a difference. I love the mattress, too; much more comfortable than my own." Widening his eyes in mock amazement, he added, "It's actually big enough for me."

"Extra-long queen size should do it, unless you hit another growth spurt," Jonathan said wryly. "Do you think you'll move out there permanently?"

"Well, I'll have to see what happens when it gets really cold, but, yeah. My room's just not big enough for that bed along with the other furniture, and I'm too big for my old bed. The loft's comfortable, and it kinda feels like I have the place to myself. You know, I can be as loud as I want and not disturb you." He grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Just remember, if I find any girls up there, you're in big trouble," said his father, sipping his coffee.  
Clark blushed. "I know, Dad. But moving out there makes sense in other ways too." Glancing out the door, he lowered his voice, "I mean, I haven't woken up floating over my bed in awhile, but that doesn't mean I won't. I don't want to lose control and break through any walls or something. The barn's a lot bigger, which makes it safer. Plus, well, we don't exactly know what I'm going to do next. Maybe it's better if I'm separated a bit. You know?"

Jonathan put a comforting hand on Clark's shoulder. "Don't start thinking we're afraid of you or your powers Clark. Because we're not."

"Yeah, I know. I just thought… maybe it might be better."

"And it might be, if only because you seem to like your privacy so much." He squeezed Clark's shoulder again, then pulled away. "I can start helping you move your furniture out to the barn today, if you want."  
"Well, I could probably do it myself," Clark said slowly, studying his father's face.

Jonathan nodded. "I know. And... I'd still like to help."

"Thanks, Dad. That'd be great."

"Don't move anything in until we've scrubbed the place down," said Martha, glancing out the window towards the barn. "It's just so dusty. And maybe get a rug or two."

"As long as I get some say in decorating, Mom, I'm fine."

"Of course you will, honey; it's your space, after all. Now, I'm going to make pancakes for breakfast. Want some?"

Clark nodded, licking his lips in an exaggerated manner. "Yes, I'm starved. Oh," he glanced out the window again, turning away from his mother, "uh, Lex came over last night. He was upset and crashed with me. He's still asleep..."

Martha dropped the bowl she was holding. It smashed to pieces.

At the same time, Jonathan practically shouted, "What?"

He froze an instant before bending to help Martha pick up the scattered pieces of broken bowl. "Lex is sleeping in the barn . . ."

"Where in the barn?"

"In bed, Dad." He looked at his mother. "Can you make him some pancakes too?"

She smiled quickly. "Of course, honey." She looked a little pale.

"Why is he over here?"

Tossing the broken bits away, Clark responded, "He was out driving, and his car ran out of gas down the road. He came over here, and I told him to stay until morning."

"He only lives a few miles away."

"It was cold, it was the middle of the night, and he was upset."

"Why? Does he panic when his car runs out of gas or something?"

"No, he was upset over what happened with Cassandra." Glancing at Martha, he said, "He was in the room with her when she died."

Martha pursed her lips and rose, going to the cupboard to get another bowl. "Is he all right?"

"I think so," Clark replied. "He was pretty shook up."

Jonathan snorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded Clark.

"Nothing. It just seems out of character for a Luthor to give a damn about anyone but himself."

"Dad, that's not fair. Lex isn't his father. He isn't anyone but himself, and he does care. About a lot of people."

"Well, maybe I'm being a little harsh, but it's hard to be magnanimous when I find out that he just spent the night in my teenaged son's bed."

Clark tried hard not to blush, but it was nearly impossible. Jonathan made it sound at least as crude as Lionel had, something he would never dare tell his father. "Dad," he said, trying not to sound guilty. "Lex came over. We talked. We fell asleep. It's nothing Pete and I haven't done a hundred times, and it's never bothered you."

"Clark, this is different."

"Why?"

"Because this isn't Pete. This is Lex Luthor."

"So?"

"Clark," Martha murmured at his aggressive tone. She shook her head slightly.

"Mom, I just want Dad to say it. I mean, even I know what he means, but I want him to say it out loud. Because this isn't fair and you know it isn't."

She inclined her head. "What isn't fair? The fact that your Dad doesn't trust Lex, or the fact that he might be justified in not trusting the situation."

Clark's mouth fell open. Taking a few deep breaths, he managed to say, "Mom. . ."

"Clark. I'm not blind, honey. I can see what's going on. But," she turned to Jonathan, "I'm also not happy with what your father is insinuating. Clark is right; you aren't being fair."

Jonathan gaped. "I'm not being fair. Lex Luthor is taking advantage of my son and I'm not being fair?"  
"He's not taking advantage of me, Dad!"

"Son, Lex Luthor is gay. Anyone with half a brain can see it."

"So? I mean, not that he is, by the way."

"Clark . . ."

"He's bisexual, not gay. There's a difference. And so what if he is? Are you saying that it makes him a bad person?"

Jonathan shook his head. "No, of course not. You know I have no problems with anyone's choice of lifestyle."

"Just as long as you don't know about it."

"No. I'm fine just as long as they don't hurt my son."

"He's not hurting me."

"Clark, he wants you. Ok? Even I can see it, and I'm not normally very attuned to who is or who is not gay. But I can see it very clearly in his eyes, and, quite frankly, it makes me uncomfortable."  
Clark crossed his arms over his chest, heart pounding. "And if I told you that I was bi too? And that I was attracted to Lex? Does that make you uncomfortable?"

Jonathan rubbed his eyes. "Only in the normal, 'My son likes men,' kind of way. Only because it's not something I ever really considered about you." He dropped his hand. "But, no. Not in a I don't trust you kind of way. And I would never push you away because of this, Clark. You're my son, and I want nothing for the best. If you like men, well, then you like men. I'll get used to it. I love you."

"It's the same with me, Clark. I can't say I'm not surprised, but I'm not upset. Not angry."

Relief made Clark's breath catch and knees feel watery. "Thanks."

"Of course, Clark," Jonathan told him, his voice gentle. Then it turned harder. "But, this does not mean that I am comfortable with the idea of you and Lex."

"Why not?"

"Because he's twenty-one! You're fifteen. He's been all over the world, and has a lot of experience. He's much more sophisticated than you and you know that."

"So you think . . ."

"Clark," Jonathan interrupted. "Lex has a lot of power. A lot of charm and a lot of charisma. I know you like him, and want him to like you. What I'm afraid of is that he will take advantage of that intense need you have to make your friends happy and safe, and twist it. Use it to get you into a situation that you're not ready for. And, because you have that desire to please, and the added stake of liking him, you'll be too afraid to say no to him. He knows what power is, Clark, and I'm just very afraid that he'll use it against you."

Clark shut his eyes and counted to ten. He wanted to hit something - not someone, just something. But even that was dangerous for him. He could punch the table and break it, and he wasn't feeling destructive, just aggressive. Being super strong had its downfalls; he couldn't even get a punching bag to use in his more private moments.

When he was a bit calmer, he opened his eyes. "Do I come off as that much of a push-over? I mean, honestly. First Chloe gives me this speech, and now you. I just don't get it. Because, except for Coach Walt, I have always been perfectly fine with saying no to people. I've turned down drugs, alcohol, fights, offers to get in on cheating rings, everything. And, truthfully, I didn't want to say no to Coach, which is why I didn't. Both of you have taught me to make decisions for myself, and how the person I am most responsible for is myself. I would never, ever do anything I didn't want to. I am perfectly capable of saying no to Lex Luthor."

"Are you, Clark?" Jonathan asked seriously. "I'm not trying to say I don't trust you, but I know life. Sometimes we get into situations where we want to say no, but feel we can't. I don't want you to do something you'll regret because you think that it will make Lex like you. Do something that you think will make things better, then hate yourself later because, in the end, it wasn't what you wanted at all. Are you sure you are able to say no to Lex?"

He met his father's eyes. " Yes, Dad. I know I am."

"He is," Lex said from outside the screen door. His eyes were still sleepy, the side of his face lined from being pressed against Clark's flannel. His sweatshirt hung down to his thighs, rumpled and wrinkled. Opening the door, he walked inside, and took his place beside Clark.. "He lets me know when I've gone too far."

Jonathan narrowed his eyes. "When you've gone too far?"

Martha shook her head. "Probably not the best choice of words, Lex, but I'm sure you didn't mean them like they sounded."

He looked at her gratefully, rubbing his eyes. "No, I didn't. I just meant Clark can take care of himself. But, beyond that, I would never do anything to make him uncomfortable or scared. Or put him in a situation where he felt he couldn't tell me to back the fuck off."

"I've never had to say that, by the way."

"No, he hasn't." Lex sighed and scrubbed his face. "Look, I'm sorry to have caused trouble, but I really . . .I just . . .I care for your son, Mr. Kent. A lot. And I'm only looking out for his best interests."  
"You're twenty-one, Lex. He's fifteen," replied Jonathan.

"What does age matter, Dad?" Clark asked a little defiantly. He reached out and took Lex's hand, holding it tightly in his. His heart was pounding wildly, but he'd gone too far now to back off.

Jonathan raised his eyebrow. "Well, it's illegal for one thing."

Martha rolled her eyes. "Jonathan, please, don't go there. We are not going to press charges. It'd be too humiliating for Clark, and you know that with Lex involved this will turn into a huge scandal. I don't want to put them through that. Either of them."

"Lex hasn't done anything wrong," insisted Clark.

"Well," Jonathan said, studying the boys, "no. I'm not going to press charges. And I wouldn't. I guess."  
Lex sighed in relief.

"But I don't approve of this. And you're telling me you knew?" Jonathan turned to his wife.

She shrugged. "I suspected. Only because Clark's eyes started glowing when he talked about Lex. And then he vehemently denied they were anything but friends when I hadn't even asked." She smiled lopsidedly at the boys. "But, yes. I was pretty sure. Jonathan, look at them. They make each other happy."

"This will end badly."

Clark started to say something, but Lex squeezed his hand warningly.

"You don't know that," was Martha's reply.

Clark had to speak. "But isn't that a risk in any relationship? Aren't I allowed to make my own mistakes?"

"Not when you're a minor."

"But he's hardly a child," Martha reminded Jonathan. She placed her hand on his arm. "Wouldn't you rather know that your son was having a relationship that makes him happy, than have him sneaking around? Give him a way to feel secure and welcome instead of making him feel like a criminal? This is an awkward enough situation as it is, Jon. All of it."

Jonathan was looking into Clark's eyes. Clark gnawed on his bottom lip, his palm sweating into Lex's. He didn't want this to have been a mistake, letting it get in the open like this, only to have Lex taken away from him. Now, of all times, when he was pretty sure he was falling in . . .

Lex squeezed his hand again. Glancing over, Clark caught the reassuring smile on his lover's face, the emotion in his eyes.

Jonathan sighed. "Yes, I would rather know."

Clark looked back, hope etched across his face.

"I want to know what's going on in your life. And I want you to know that I'm not disappointed with whatever choices you make." Sighing again, he looked at Lex. "Maybe it's time I give you a real chance," he said grudgingly.

Clearing his throat, Lex said, "I would like that, sir."

"But," Jonathan's voice turned diamond hard, "if I find the two of you having sex on my property, I will castrate you both. I'm not stupid, nor am I willfully blind. I know I can tell you from now until sundown how I don't want the two of you sleeping together until Clark is at the very least over the age of consent, although I'd prefer 18. Or 21. Or, even better, 40. But, there is only so much self-delusion allowed a person. That doesn't mean, though, that I have to allow it here while I am home. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," the boys mumbled.

"And, for God's sake, don't get caught. This is Kansas and there are all sorts of laws that are antiquated and unfair, but they are still laws. Also, don't tell me about it, don't leave anything lying around where I can see it. And be safe. Understand?"

Clark was pale; glancing over at Lex, he could see his lover was pale as well.

Swallowing hard, Clark nodded. "Ok, Dad."

"Ok." He held Clark's eyes another moment, before nodding. "This talk isn't over, Clark. Your mother and I need to discuss the new rules regarding you and Lex." Raising his eyebrows, he said wryly, "For starters, I don't think any overnights at your mansion are going to be happening any time soon."

"Of course, sir."

"Ok. I need to get to work. Oh, and Lex?"

Lex cleared his throat. "Yes, sir?" His voice cracked.

"If you hurt my son, they will never find your body. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." With one last hard look at Lex, he left the kitchen.

Martha cleared her throat, breaking the silence that had fallen after her husband left. "So. Are you two hungry for breakfast?"

Clark felt queasy. "Dad was talking about sex."

Lex nodded. "Yes. He was."

"Oh, sit down, boys." Martha smiled a touch evilly, pulling out the skillet. "The lecture has only just begun."


End file.
